


Feet Don't Fail Me Now

by Hajimeru



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen, Neil in Millport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7479099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hajimeru/pseuds/Hajimeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Neil overhears Hernandez talking to Wymack about coming to see Neil play during the Millport Dingos' match. Does he drop everything and run, or stay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feet Don't Fail Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> just a what-if situation for the beginning of the series.

Exy practice ended for the day and the Millport Dingos disbanded into their respective changing rooms. Neil Josten took his time heading to the boys’ locker room. After all, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go after changing. He was going to spend another night here. Neil detoured and walked down the dim hallway that intersected into the main corridor. The hallway was silent and its walls were a dull ashy-white. There were club flyers and sport ads pinned to bulletin boards. When Neil got mid way, he heard Coach Hernandez’s hushed voice coming from the main corridor.

Neil took slower, softer, and smaller steps.

“…Thank you for watching the video… No, he doesn’t know.”

Neil ceased walking and channeled all his focus into listening.

“You’re coming to the match in person?” Hernandez asked, surprised. “Oh no, not at all. I’d be glad to have your boys come along… Sure thing… The game takes place a week from now. We’re aiming for the finals.”

Hernandez let out a hearty laugh. “Thanks for the good wishes. Good luck with your Foxes too.”

Neil stiffened. His mind wandered back to his binder as he recalled the clipped newspaper articles about Kevin joining the Palmetto Foxes as an assistant coach, and the speculations between Kevin and freshman goalie Andrew Minyard.

Neil wanted to scrub away the growing worry he felt. Why would the Foxes’ coach come to a dying small town like Millport? Recruitment was the only logical option Neil could think of. And just who else was coming to the game with Wymack?

Neil’s feet were already taking him back to the locker room. His back was completely turned to the main corridor when he heard Hernandez’s voice drop lower, making Neil stop in the middle of his track.

“Also, I’d like it if you guys kept a low profile. If Neil suspects something, he might take off. I don’t want him feeling pressured or anything, you understand right? I just want him to enjoy the match the best he can.”

A sour taste exploded in Neil’s mouth as he hurried to the locker room as quietly as possible. _Too late_ , Neil thought. He was the one who had to keep a low profile and now with the foxes coming, Neil was going to drop everything and leave. He knew what signing onto a college team entailed, and he wasn’t going to put himself in the spotlight. It was too risky, too stupid; it would waste his mother’s efforts for running these past eight years and it’d waste her death. Neil just couldn’t do it. And Kevin, just thinking of Kevin made Neil burn with jealousy and fear. Jealousy because Kevin had Exy, had a life, an identity, and a court to stay with. Fear because Kevin was a thing from the past and Neil couldn’t afford to have the past catch him, recognize him.

Neil was a nobody and he would remain a nobody until he died. Millport, like all the other towns and cities he passed through, would just have to become a forgotten stop in his run.

* * *

 

Three days later, Neil found himself wandering in Aspen, Colorado. During spring, Aspen was less populated and quiet since people usually returned during summer. From the window of his motel, he could see snow-laden mountains in the distance. He was already contrasting Aspen and Millport. He couldn’t see any mountains from the empty houses in Millport and whereas Millport was empty and quiet year long, Aspen was sparse and quiet only during its off seasons. To avoid encountering people, Neil would have to leave Aspen before summer started.

Millport was history so he would never return there.

Neil didn’t know what to do in Aspen. Most of the time, he found himself sitting in a motel with a knife in hand, his duffel bag strapped over a shoulder, and his mind lost in thoughts. Would the Millport Dingos make it to the finals? How many points would they win during this match? If they lost, how many points were they behind? Was it because the defense was lacking? Was there a hole in the defense somewhere, was that how the opponents slipped by and scored? Did a striker get carded or benched from injury? What was going to happen?

Neil came up with all sorts of hypothetical situations and when he caught how pathetically obsessive he was being, he slumped against the headboard. If he wasn’t thinking about Exy, he was thinking about his mother.

Sometimes she would sigh exhaustedly, full of disappointment, while saying, _I thought I told you to stop rambling about Exy, Alex._

Many times she said things like: _No, Chris, change the channel. No Exy. How many times do I have to remind you?_

Other times when she caught him sneaking peeks at Exy related things, she’d smack him. One time she tightly gripped the back of his neck and shoved him forward to make him move along. _Stefan, quit looking at that Exy shop. You’re never going anywhere near Exy again, understood? Running and surviving is all you have time for._

Running was all he was good at and Neil knew it.

Sometimes, no, a lot of the time, he just wanted to escape from this life of continuous running and just simply run because he had a goal to score, a game to win- not because he was going to get carved up and chopped into pieces.

…

On his fifth night in Aspen, Neil got into a brawl with a thief who broke into the motel Neil had booked for the evening. The thief was cloaked in black, his face concealed, and he demanded for Neil to hand over his belongings. Neil felt his heart beating fast at the thought of losing his contacts and millions of dollars. The blood rushed loudly in his ears as he slammed an elbow into the man’s ribs and broke free of the chokehold. He whirled around to punch the guy’s throat and stumbled away, hitting the nightstand.

Neil’s arm was bleeding from the knife’s swipe and he was pretty sure there were bruises forming around his neck from the too tight grip.

The man came charging at Neil and Neil was suddenly relieved because Lola or anyone from his father’s circle did not fight so sloppy. Neil had knocked the man's knife away earlier on in the scuffle and the guy didn’t produce another knife; if he was currently fighting one of his father’s men, the thief would have had more than one knife on him. Hell, Lola had to have more than five blades on her.

The thief got his hands on Neil’s shoulders and tried to rip the duffel bag away from Neil but Neil kneed the man in the guts and head-butted him. Within a few seconds, Neil smashed the man against the wall and yanked the mask off. It was a stranger and Neil shoved the guy to the bed as he backpedaled to the door, picking up the man’s knife along the way.

“Follow me and I will not hesitate to slit your throat,” Neil warned. His head throbbed from the head-butt and his arm was dripping blood all the way to his fingertips.

When he shut the door, he bolted away as fast as he could. He was leaving Aspen tonight.

The last thing he thought about was _two more days until the Dingos’ match._

 

* * *

 

Hernandez sat on the bench with his attention divided. The match was mid-way done and Neil was nowhere in sight. In fact, Neil had disappeared a week ago. Hernandez optimistically thought that perhaps Neil got a severe fever or worst, the flu, but when Neil didn’t show up tonight, Hernandez let go of his hope. Neil wasn’t coming back. Something must have happened, Hernandez thought. Something with his parents because why else would Neil stop coming to the changing room at night?

Hernandez looked at the bleachers across from the court and spied Wymack sitting up at the top with his two players. Kevin Day was watching with sharp and critical eyes whereas Andrew Minyard looked bored as hell with the way he slumped against the wall, his fingers slipped into the pockets of his jeans. Wymack was confusing as well. Hernandez called him five days before the match and told him that Neil might not make it to the match because he was sick, and that Wymack should cancel his flight.

Wymack simply replied that he’d come whether Neil played or not. 

When Wymack and his players arrived in the afternoon, Hernandez updated Wymack and said Neil was certainly not showing up for the game since he’d been gone for nearly a week.

“Have some faith,” Wymack said, patting Hernandez’s shoulder. “Kevin says Neil will come tonight. I don’t know when but he’ll come.”

Hernandez couldn’t understand how Wymack could say such a thing about a player he didn’t even know. Neil was a flighty one and quick on his feet. Hernandez finally came to understand that after months of watching Neil play and months of turning a blind eye to Neil breaking into the changing rooms at night. 

One minute he was outside and the next minute he was inside.

One minute he was in Millport, the next minute there wasn’t a single trace of him.

One minute he was definitely playing in tonight’s match, the next, he was not.

Hernandez was startled into reality when he heard Neil’s voice beside him. “Coach, I’m here.”

One minute he was gone, and suddenly, he was back.

Hernandez turned to see Neil fully armored with his racquet in hand and his helmet pressed to his hip. Neil’s forehead was bandaged and that left Hernandez wondering about the rest of Neil’s clothed body.

A relieved smile crossed Hernandez’s face. “Good to see you, Neil. Get that helmet on and let’s get you in the game.”

…

_Fuck Kevin. Forget about that stupid goalie,_ Neil thought over and over to himself as he tore past his mark and slipped through the opposing defenses. _I don’t care about Wymack._

He threw the ball into the net and scored a goal. _I’m a nobody. Not a fox. Nothing._

He was only here tonight because his feet took him back to Arizona before he even realized it. He found himself rushing off a bus and running into the changing rooms even as the match got closer and closer to the end. His hand was hungry to touch a racquet and his feet wanted nothing more than to run to a goal.

Tonight, he’d stow away running for his life. 

Tonight, he was running to play Exy.

Tonight, he’d forget about his mother’s scolding voice. Forget about the haunting past. Let it all fade until Exy became the only thing he saw.

…

“What do you think?” Wymack asked as he kept his eyes trained on Neil’s lithe form. Neil outsmarted his mark again and Wymack felt his lips twitch with amusement as Neil narrowly dodged a body check. This kid was energetic tonight, a force to be reckoned with. 

“Who? Me?” Andrew replied with feigned flattery.

“Nice try, Minyard. I know you don’t care about the kid.”

Kevin was too busy watching Neil. Andrew batted a hand. “You wound me, Coach. Of course I care. Why else would I be here?”

Wymack turned to look at Andrew, giving him a hefty look, and warned, “No messing around with the kid, Minyard. He’s not even on our team yet.”

“Yet,” Andrew echoed. “What if he rejects you?”

Kevin answered instead. “He won’t.”

Wymack and Andrew both looked at the former Raven striker and Andrew asked how would Kevin know.

“Don’t tell me you can see the future now, Kevin,” Andrew remarked. He shook a finger, chiding, “Should’ve used that to avoid your skiing injury.”

Kevin shot him a scathing look. “Shut up.”

“And why do you say he’ll join?” Wymack reminded.

Kevin was already back to watching Neil, who just got smashed into the wall. Neil bounced back onto his feet within a few seconds and harshly shoved the guy before his teammates pulled him away.

“He plays like he has everything to lose.”

Andrew tossed his hands up in the air. “Oh wonderful, another Exy obsessive.”

… 

The buzzer blared, signaling the end of the game, and Neil tasted adrenaline surging throughout his body. The world around him was spinning. The lights above were bleary and blinding when he looked up. 

This was it. This was how the Dingos match ended. They lost and would not proceed to the finals. The season was over.

Neil would stop playing Exy all together after he graduated from Millport. He spun around, saw Hernandez talking with the subs in the box, and remembered that the Foxes were here. No, Neil thought to himself, he was not going to stay for graduation. He was leaving Millport tonight.

Exy stopped tonight. It was back to running for survival again.

Neil left the court as his teammates laughed and encouraged one another. The crowd was still roaring with cheers. Neil hurried into the shower stall to change his clothes; he’d find a place to shower later on. For now, he just needed to get out of town quickly. He needed to leave before Hernandez or Wymack caught him, or worse: Andrew and Kevin. 

Neil washed his face and neck clean of sweat and chucked his gear into his locker. Then he grabbed his duffel bag and merged into the crowd of people leaving the stadium.

Millport was history now.

...

Millport should’ve been history, Neil mused to himself. He was supposed to be on a bus by now, heading somewhere far away from Millport, and yet here he was sitting on the bleachers of the outdoor baseball stadium. He was on the opposite side of campus where the Exy match was held.

Neil lit up a cigarette and let it burn to the filter as he gazed at the night sky. There were no bleary stadium lights obstructing his view. The air was cool and the place was empty. Neil let the smoke waft close to his face so he could smell his mother.

He’d atone for playing Exy by not playing anymore.

“I thought you wouldn’t come tonight,” Hernandez softly said, coming in from the right. Neil didn’t bother looking at his coach. All he did was strap his bag over his chest and toss his cigarette to the floor of the bleacher before grounding it dead with his feet.

“I’m glad you came, Neil,” Hernandez said. “Also, there’s so-”

“No,” Neil cut him off and began walking to the left end of the bleachers. “I’m not talking to anyone.”

“Neil, listen to me.”

Neil reached the middle section of the bleachers when a figure appeared from the direction he was headed towards. Wymack was closing in the distance with his larger strides. He met Neil at the halfway mark.

“I don’t know you,” Neil said. Lies. He knew. That's why he ran in the first place. 

Somewhere behind Neil, Hernandez said that Wymack was from a university and that he came to see Neil play tonight.

“Bullshit,” Neil said. “No one recruits from Millport. No one knows where it is.”

“There’s this thing called a map,” Wymack reminded. “You might have heard of it.”

“He’s here because I sent him your file, Neil. He put a note out saying he was short on his striker line, and I figured it was worth a shot,” Hernandez explained.

Neil walked down the bleacher rows and began to walk away. “I’m not interested.”

“At least hear me out. Make my trip worth it since I flew three people out here tonight,” Wymack reasoned.

Neil didn’t stop walking. “Your problem, not mine.” Speaking of three people, where were the other two? Neil’s eyes darted around for any lurking figures. Nothing.

“Neil,” Hernandez said with a warning tone. _Stop_ was what Hernandez was telling him. _Listen to him, Neil. Join his team._

“Kevin says you’re Court material.”

_Fuck Kevin,_ Neil wanted to say but he couldn’t. _Forget about Exy. I’m done._

Wymack chased after Neil and cut in front of him. He held packet of stapled papers in front of Neil, saying, “Coach Hernandez said you haven’t decided on a school for fall. Works out perfectly, doesn’t it? You need a team and I need a striker sub. All you have to do is sign the dotted line and your mine for five years.”

“I’m not attending college.”

Wymack blocked him again when he tried to sidestep. “There’s a scholarship along with this package.”

“Don’t care.”

Wymack gave him a long, hard stare. “Is it because of your parents? Your coach told me you spend several nights per week at the Exy court. If you’re parents are the problem, we’ll move you to South Carolina early.”

“No thanks.” Neil brushed past Wymack and walked out of the baseball stadium feeling like Lola was trailing her deadly blades down his spine. When he got to the shadowy area of exit, something came smashing into his stomach and he dropped onto the hard ground, curling hands around his stomach. The breath was literally smacked out of him.

Neil got onto his hands and knees as he tried to breathe again. He heard a ringing sound and the world was slanted and shaky. Rushing footsteps neared. 

“God damn it, Minyard. This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Oh coach,” someone said over Neil’s head. “If he was nice, he wouldn’t be any use to us, would he?”

“What’s taking so long?” Kevin asked as he walked onto the stadium grounds.

“He’s no use to us if you break him,” Wymack sharply reminded, ignoring Kevin. 

Andrew tossed the racket at Wymack’s feet. “You’d rather I let him go? Put a band-aid on him and he’ll be good as new.”

“He’s wearing bandages,” Wymack crossly said, shaking Neil’s application in Neil’s direction. “Use your damn eyes, Andrew.”

“Oops, I guess it was too dark,” Andrew said, leaning against a wall. 

With the help of Hernandez, Neil got back onto his feet and found his sense of equilibrium. There was no fucking way he was signing with the Foxes. Kevin frowned when he saw that Neil did in fact have bandages wrapped around his head and stepped closer to get a look.

“Back off,” Neil hissed.

Kevin glared at Andrew when he saw that Neil still had a hand pressed to his stomach. Then he asked Neil, “Are you injured there?” 

“Thanks to your friend over there,” Neil hotly said while readjusting the strap around his shoulder. He didn’t look at Kevin for the fear that Kevin would recognize him. He should’ve boarded a bus instead of hanging around on campus. “I’m leaving.”

Wymack called out as Neil walked away, “You won’t have to worry about money because there’s the scholarship. I’ll even help you move for the summer. We’ll book a flight and you can stay at my apartment until the dorms open for the summer.” 

Neil wanted to say that he had enough money, that he didn’t need help moving because he was always moving. He had contacts. They weren’t family but they’d help him.

Kevin finally said something. “You get Exy for five years. You play like you have everything to lose, that’s the kind of striker worth playing with. You could go Court after college.”

Neil’s mind stopped thinking. Exy. Five years. Where would he be in five years? Surely not playing Exy. Maybe he was dying somewhere, most likely dying in pain and all by himself. No one would know when he died. No one would care because there was no one he knew. That’s what happened to nobodies.

_Run and never look back_. He should have done that. His feet should’ve been walking away but no, his feet failed that principle.

“Better keep your words,” Neil said as he turned around to look at Wymack. He could feel his throat clogging up, the breath getting stuck somewhere. He’d panic later after he signed five years of his life away to Wymack.

Feet don’t fail me now, Neil thought. He’d made it this far. He’d make it until he could play Exy as much as he could and then he’d flee when his father’s men showed up.

_So don’t fail me feet. Don’t._

Not after he’d already failed his mother.


End file.
